The Quest for Iscandar Reversed
by asthiathien
Summary: A re-imagining of the first Star Blazers series, in which the twin planets of Gamilon and Iscandar are under siege by the Earthlings. In the hope of repelling the Earth attackers, the last remaining Gamilon fleet meets with the Earthlings in a last-ditch stand which, if it fails, will mean their destruction.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One  
August 17, 2199  
0315 Hours Earth Time  
In Orbit around Rajendora, Sanzar System

Pale starlight struck the glistening surface of Rajendora, reflecting off it to illuminate the Gamilon fleet in orbit around it. All the ships bore the scars of recent battles, some barely operable. In the center of the fleet hovered a slender blue flagship, the command ship of Desslok, Leader of the Gamilon Empire and commander of the attack.

"Talan, any sign of our Earthling friends?"

"None, sir," Talan replied, scanning the radar. "The patrols have seen no action, either."

Desslok narrowed his eyes. "It's not like them to stay quiet for so long."

Desslok was younger than the previous Leaders had been, with short blond hair that hung slightly into his eyes. They were a clear, icy blue that contributed largely to his charismatic personality. His black cape trailed on the ground behind him, draped over his right shoulder and fastened on his left with a gold pin.

He carefully surveyed the bridge crew. Talan, a general of the Gamilon military, was his second-in-command and closest friend. His intelligence and calm nature countered Desslok's more impulsive decisions, and had saved them more than once.

The vast majority of the bridge crew was younger than usually served aboard the ship, if not outright rookies. They were nervous about the prospect of their first battle, but took reassurance in the fact that they had Desslok with them. They believed the ship was invincible so long as they had him in command.  
_  
If only that were so._

"Warp signatures!" Talan yelled. "Contact acquired with the Earthling fleet!"

"How many?" Desslok demanded.

Talan's sharp blue eyes scanned the readout, counting silently. "Thirteen battleships, seventeen carriers, and thirty-five destroyers!" He let out an exasperated sigh. "That's without counting their fighters."

"So, it's to be a brawl, is it?" Desslok muttered. Several of the rookie crewmembers smiled slightly. It's all right; we have the Emperor with us. _We_ won't be killed.

"Radio contact," the operator called out. "The Earthlings are ordering us to surrender or face their wrath."

The crew looked expectantly at him. Desslok turned to the gunnery chief, a slender youth with short brown hair. "Xandir, target their largest ship and fire."

Xandir grinned, his light blue eyes sparkling with expectancy. "Yes, sir!" He spun to face his console. "Firing solution 5, three seconds to firing."

The ship's main guns swung around to point at a ship hovering in the center of the Earthling fleet. "Fire!" Green beams of energy arced through space and struck the ship, which exploded in a brilliant blaze of light that vaporized several nearby ships.

"That got their attention," Talan commented dryly. The Earthling ships opened fire on their Gamilon counterparts. Several ships exploded, the blasts missing Desslok's flagship by inches.

"Comm, contact Damiru's ship and tell him to take control of the other half of the fleet. And send out orders to our ships to return fire!"

The communications officer nodded and adjusted the frequency. "Damiru, take control of your half of the fleet and counterattack."

* * *

Damiru nodded, his bright blue eyes flashing. "Finally, a chance to strike back against those Earth demons. Helm, point us at the Earth fleet." The carrier maneuvered around to face the enemy, its guns singling out several targets.

"Sir, we have firing solutions on five ships," the gunnery officer reported. Damiru nodded.

"Open fire and tell the other ships to do the same." Green lasers slammed into the enemy ships, bouncing off harmlessly. "What?" he shouted. "Desslok's ship destroyed them with a single blast!"

"_Imperator's_ weapons were upgraded when they went in for repairs, remember?" Damiru's first officer reminded him. Damiru let out a soft curse.

"Very well. Send out a communication to the fleet. Any ships that have had recent repairs take over the offensive. As for the others, I want them to target the destroyers and fighters. Their armor isn't as strong."

The communications officer nodded and sent the message out to the main fleet. The more recent ships rained fire on the main body of the Earthling fleet, whereas the others let off wide blasts to pick off the Earthling fighters. One, trailing smoke, struck a nearby ship, both exploding in a titanic fireball. Damiru's ship shuddered slightly as it passed through the shockwave. Another Earthling vessel streaked past them, and Damiru yelled instinctively, "Fire!"

The ship's lasers soared through space and impacted against the armor. However, another Gamilon destroyer had fired upon the same ship simultaneously, and the twin blasts pierced its hull.

"Sir, Earthling vessel destroyed!" the radar operator yelled.

Damiru smiled. Finally, a bright spot in this hopeless battle. "Send that information to Desslok, quickly!"

* * *

"Status of the fleet!" Desslok shouted from the bridge of his flagship.

"Heavy losses sustained," Talan reported. "Squadrons 2, 5, and 8 are down. 11 and 13 have disappeared."

"Contact lost with 17!" the communications officer shouted.

One of the ships close to the flagship was struck by a beam of energy from an Earthling command ship and exploded, taking out two nearby destroyers with it.

"Message from Damiru! The Earthlings can be destroyed with a simultaneous blast from two—" A shot struck the bridge, sending the ship listing to port. The bridge crew was thrown to the ground, several consoles sparking. Another shot slammed into the side, blasting a gaping hole in the ship's hull.

"Desslok!" Talan yelled, looking frantically around the smoke-filled bridge. The ship was hit again, knocking him to the ground. "Helm, right the ship and try to avoid those blasts!"

The young man at the helm tilted the ship to starboard, correcting its list to port. The ship took another shot, which barely missed to starboard. Xandir focused the ship's remaining weapons on the Earthling vessel, destroying her. Talan spotted movement near the back of the bridge and ran over, rewarded by seeing Desslok kneeling by the body of the communications officer.

"Earthling demons," Desslok snarled. "They were too young to be in battle, let alone die in it." He staggered to his feet, wincing in pain. "Damage report . . . all decks."

"Turrets three and four are out, turret two badly damaged. Port missile decks hit, flight deck completely obliterated."

Desslok hit a button on the communication console. "Venikira, engine status."

"Engine reduced to 76% and falling. Warp drive damaged. We can still warp, but we're restricted to small jumps."

"Incoming transmission!" Talan called out. "Switching to main video panel!"

Damiru's face shimmered to life on the panel. "Leader, we're down to five ships."

Desslok nodded sadly. So, that was how it would be. "Rejoin the fleet around my flagship. We'll go down fighting."

"My apologies, Desslok, but I cannot allow you to do that."

"Damiru?" Talan said questioningly. "What do you mean by that?"

"I cannot allow you to die, Desslok," the black-haired officer said matter-of-factly. "The only reason the Gamilon people have fought for so long is because they believe we will succeed so long as we have the great Desslok by our side. Should you die, their morale will be crushed. Our homeland will be overrun within a matter of months."

"Damiru-"

"We'll cover your escape." His face flickered away, and the remainder of the fleet moved towards the Earthling vessels. The enemy fleet remained still for a few seconds, as if shocked. After a few moments, they began to rain fire on the approaching ships. Several exploded, dangerously close to Damiru's command ship.

The weapons fired randomly into the fleet, destroying several of the enemy, but they moved to surround the lone vessel. A few Earthling ships disengaged from the main fleet and fired on Desslok's flagship.

"Helm, warp us away from here." The bridge crew stared at him in confusion.

"What are we doing, Leader?" Xandir asked, his light eyes questioning.

"Honoring Damiru's final wish," Desslok murmured, bowing his head. Talan nodded sorrowfully and motioned to the helmsman. He nodded and began preparing the ship for warp.

"Three, two, one. . . Warp." The flagship warped away, but not before Damiru's ship, crippled and caught in the gravitational field of Rajendora, drifted down through space before exploding in a single huge fireball.

* * *

Desslok's flagship, severely damaged and spewing smoke from several jagged holes in its side, de-warped in orbit around Gamilon. Desslok stared sorrowfully out at the planet, which was near death. Three years prior, the Earthlings had launched a surprise attack which had won them the base on Rajendora. From there, they had begun launching planet bombs containing radioactive material to impact on Gamilon and its twin, Iscandar. The surface was now saturated with radiation, and the population of both planets had been forced underground for survival. However, even the underground cities were not impenetrable. The surface radiation was slowly creeping down towards the small pockets of life. In one year's time, the planets would be completely uninhabitable.

Xandir scowled angrily at the planet's surface. He, like many others, was too young to remember much of life before the bombs had fallen. In some ways, that was a blessing. He would not mourn as much when the radiation made its way to the cities.

But Desslok and the other officers of the Gamilon defense force could remember when dark green forests had covered the surface of their mother planet. Desslok could see the spiderweb of light that had stretched across the Gamilon surface from its many cities.

But far crueler was the bombing of Iscandar. They refused to fight back, and had no spacefleet with which to do battle anyway. And it was Iscandar that had always been the fairer of the twin planets, with the multitude of life that had thrived on its surface, making it as bright as Gamilon was dark.

Both planets looked the same now, with near-identical light brown rock that had been pitted with craters from the bombs.

"Sir!" the radar chief called out.

Desslok turned slowly. "What?"

The soldier squinted at his panel through sharp eyes. "I'm picking up something strange . . . an Iscandarian vessel?"

"An _Iscandarian_? Bring it up to the video panel!"

A pale silver ship shimmered to existence on the panel, streaking across the stars. It trailed a bright blue flame that marked its path as clearly as if some cosmic will had created a line of stars to follow behind the ship.

"That's a royal vessel!" Talan exclaimed. "What are they doing here? That's too dangerous for an unarmed ship!"

"If whatever is on that ship is so important that they must trust it to a member of the royal family, it is far too important to wait for several days until the current Earthling patrol leaves," Desslok responded.

"Speaking of the Earthling patrol," the radar operator said with false calm, "it's converging on the ship."

"Xandir, get a firing solution on that patrol," Desslok ordered. "Battle stations!"

"We're not battle ready!" Talan objected. "This is a suicide mission!"

Desslok spun around to glare at him, blue eyes flashing with barely suppressed anger. "We can't just watch! Besides, that ship is in Gamilon airspace, which means we are bound to assist it if at all possible. Furthermore," he added in a whisper, "a victory here will soothe the crew's wounds from the previous battle."

"They're firing!"

Blue streaks converged on the Iscandarian ship, tearing strips of metal free from the hull. One struck the engine, which let free a wide swath of smoke as the ship began a downward spiral.

"Xandir, now!" Desslok shouted. "Open fire, wide barrage!"

"Firing!"

The flagship's weapons sliced down on the Earthling patrol, tearing it to shreds. The remaining ships turned to fire on the flagship, but the helmsman brought the ship around, missing the enemy fire by a matter of meters.

"Torpedoes!"

Slender missiles streaked from the bow, fanning out to strike several of the ships. The remainder, sensing they were at a disadvantage so close to Gamilon, warped away.

"_Ha_!" Xandir yelled. "Take _that_, Earthling scum! You can shoot down our fleet, but we will never allow you a victory in our airspace!"

Desslok smiled slightly, turning to chart the course of the Iscandarian vessel. "Helm, take us down." The bridge crew, though still ecstatic from the victory, quieted somewhat as the flagship moved to dock below the planet's surface. Behind them, the Iscandarian ship struck the surface, sending up a plume of smoke.

* * *

Krypt was waiting for them at the dock, the look on his face clearly saying that he knew of the events that had transpired in Rajendora's orbit. "Leader, we need to discuss—"

Desslok brushed him away. "Cabinet meetings can wait, Krypt. An Iscandarian ship just crashed on the surface."

"A—_what?_"

Desslok sighed. "Talan, Xandir, come with me. Krypt, there are wounded crewmembers on board this ship. See to it they get medical attention." He gestured to the soldiers following Krypt, signaling them to follow him.

"Well, where are you going?" Krypt called after him. His only response was the sound of a door slamming. He sighed resignedly and muttered, "He never tells me anything."

* * *

Talan ran across the bleached plain after Desslok, flanked by the Gamilon soldiers and Xandir. He almost tripped over the edge of a nearby crater, one of the smaller ones, only about 150 feet across. The bulky protective suit made movement difficult, especially long-distance sprints.

Xandir pulled up beside him, gasping for breath. "How. . . is it. . . that we. . . have to wear these suits. . . while Leader Desslok doesn't?"

Talan shrugged and began running again. Xandir let out an exasperated hiss and followed him. After a few more minutes, they found the crash site.

The once-beautiful ship was in ruins, its silver hull bent and twisted out of any recognizable shape. It lay at the bottom of a large crater, the outer layers scattered around the area, revealing the interior of the ship.

"There's no way anyone survived that," Xandir said sadly. Talan nodded in agreement, glancing up towards the empty cockpit. A shape hovered into view, a slender construction of polished metal that sat perched on the lip of the crater.

"An escape pod!" Talan shouted, picking his way up the loose scree rimming the crater. He hauled himself over the edge, ignoring Xandir scrabbling up the slope behind him as he beheld the scene.

Desslok knelt by the side of a young woman, and, as Talan watched, he gently brushed the woman's long gold hair from over her face, whispering, "Aethir miana hiatu centuri." Talan blinked in shock as he recognized the ancient Gamilon blessing, "May your spirit live forever amongst the cosmos," which was usually used only for those held in high honor by the Gamilon people. He quietly wondered how his Leader knew this young woman.

Xandir pulled himself over the crater edge, panting. "Talan? Where's. . .?" He fell silent as he saw the Gamilon Leader kneeling by the side of the fallen woman.

"Go and help the others piece together the wreckage. We need to see if there's anything important down there," Talan ordered in a whisper. "We'll be fine here."

Xandir moved off slowly, casting Desslok a worried glance. Talan turned back to him just as Desslok leaned forwards, lifting a small red capsule from the woman's hand. He slowly got to his feet, looking down at the capsule curiously.

"Who was she?" Talan asked, moving to stand at Desslok's side.

"Her name was Astra, sister of Starsha, Queen of Iscandar." He lifted the capsule, which appeared similar to something the older Gamilon civilizations used to transport secure messages. "But_ this_ is what I don't understand. It's not Iscandarian, and it's made out of material found on neither of our planets."

Talan narrowed his eyes. "Who would be sending a message to _us_, and why now? The conquered worlds wouldn't bother, and no one else seems to care enough about us to do anything about the Terran invasion." He scowled as another thought struck him. "Maybe it's an Earthling trick to taunt us over their accomplishments."

Desslok sighed. "Maybe, Talan, but Astra seemed to think it was important, and she is _incredibly_ intelligent. Along with her sister. I—"

He broke off suddenly as he staggered and nearly fell. Talan ran up to him, noticing for the first time that his right arm had been hit sometime in their battle with the Earthling fleet, likely when Damiru had sent them that message. He attempted to help him up, but Desslok brushed him away.

"I'm fine, Talan."

Talan let out a long sigh. "You are an idiot, you know. Are you ever going to let me get you medical treatment while you're still conscious?"

"No."

"That was rhetorical."

"I know."

"I am going to kill you one of these days," Talan hissed.

Desslok smiled. "No, you will not. That would mean _you_ would be in command of the defenses."

"_What_ defenses?"

Desslok sighed, turning to look up at the sky, in which the remains of the Fleet glow with pale fire. "You're right, Talan. Our only remaining defenses are the fighter bases and my flagship." He lifted the message capsule, turning it so the light slanted through the glass midsection and dappled the hideous orange ground. "But this is a chance for us, Talan. For _both_ of us."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two  
August 18, 2199  
1100 Hours Earth Time  
Tokyo Megalopolis, Earth

Derek Wildstar gazed out the window of his office, over the battered surface of Earth, his homeworld. He scowled. Once, the surface had been covered with living creatures, organisms unique to this one planet. His people had once called this place "the blue planet." That color had long since faded from the surface, only preserved in aquifers deep beneath the ground.

A knock came at the door, startling him from his thoughts. "Sir?"

Wildstar sighed as he remotely opened the door. "Sandor. No need to call me that." The title still stung, a reminder of the time when he had called others by that name.

"It is a matter of military protocol, sir," Sandor said as he entered, smiling.

"No, it is a matter of you trying to annoy me."

"Naturally, sir." A pen bounced off Sandor's head.

"Just give me the report already!"

Sandor nodded, the smile on his face fading as he set it down on Wildstar's desk. "Venture is worried about you."

"Tell him I'm fine," Wildstar said irritably as he picked up the folder. "I'm just stressed, is all." _I wish that really was all_, he added silently.

The knowing expression on Sandor's face implied that he knew full well what he had been thinking. "Very well."

He closed the door firmly behind him, and Wildstar looked back out the window. For the thousandth time, he wished it was someone else in this chair, that the President and Commander Singleton had not died in that volcanic eruption which had coated half of Megalopolis in ash and rock.

_I don't want to have to abandon you_, he thought, looking down at Earth's surface. _But I have no other choice, if I want my people to survive._

Against his judgment, he opened the folder. Dash reported that the battle had been successful. Gamilon's defenses had been neutralized.

Gamilon. The planet had been beautiful once, before the bombs constructed from the nuclear waste of the old fission plants had made its surface nigh indistinguishable from that of Earth. They had never been able to figure out what to do with that stuff, not even after they had invented the Cosmo-DNA. There was just too much of it.

It had been Dash's idea to bomb the planets. Wildstar had assigned him to the offense, and, as was typical of him, he had not even tried a diplomatic approach. He had simply attacked them. Wildstar was grudgingly impressed; he had never anticipated that Dash was a strategist as well as overly suspicious and untrusting. Iscandar had submitted quickly, but Gamilon had put up plenty enough resistance for the both of them. According to the report, the Gamilon Fleet had finally fallen in battle, but not without taking a good portion of Dash's ships with them. One flagship had escaped, but it had been badly damaged, and probably couldn't put up much of a fight.

Wildstar angrily stabbed the side of the report with his pen. If only they had had more time! The only option Earth had was to immigrate to another world, and Gamilon and Iscandar were the only planets he had found capable of supporting Earth life. He would have gladly taken the most inhospitable world possible, so long as it could support them, rather than have to kill off the population of another.

He sighed and withdrew the pen, tearing off some paper as he did so. As he removed it from the tip of the pen, Wildstar noticed writing on the back. He hurriedly flipped the sheet over, revealing a hastily scrawled message.

_Commander Wildstar-Sorry about the tone, but this is urgent. Patrol Beta Oh-nine-seven ran into an Iscandarian shuttle heading for Gamilon. The signature of the message capsule came up on their scans. They shot it down on Gamilon, but that flagship I was telling you about kicked their butts back to Pluto II, what they call Rajendora. Nova's message got through at least to Iscandar, possibly to Gamilon as well if they managed to recover the capsule. And, in case you think this isn't as much of a problem as I think it is, I know the Gamilons will fight to the death even if there isn't a chance. If there is a chance… they'll fight until they are obliterated to get it._

_With all due respect: we are DEAD if they know._  
_-Dash, Commander of the EDF Advance Fleets_

Wildstar let out a long sigh. "As if I didn't have enough to worry about. Nova, I can see your point, but if their survival means our death, then I choose our survival."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three  
August 18, 2199  
1430 Hours, Earth Time  
Gamilon Capital City, Planet Gamilon

"You are an idiot."

"So I have been informed, thank you, Talan."

"You had three pieces of shrapnel embedded in your arm!"

"Four."

Talan threw his hands in the air. "Exactly! You are positively suicidal!"

"You know, General, I don't think he's listening."

Talan rounded on the skinny, bearded Gamilon physician. "You stay out of this!"

"May I point out that you have had this conversation already?"

"No. You may not."

"Isn't there something about excessive shouting not being conducive to recovery?"

"Ignoring battle injuries is _most certainly_ not conducive to recovery!"

The physician got to his feet and let out an exasperated sigh. "Honestly, sometimes I don't know which one of you is more infuriating."

Talan gave him a sharp look. "Kimal, shut up. You're not helping."

"I'm just the doctor."

Talan frowned. "'Doctor?' What, exactly, is a doctor?"

"Earthling term for a physician," Desslok said flatly.

"And why is this important?"

"Hey, it distracted you, didn't it?" Kimal pointed out dryly as he moved towards the door. "Try not to kill each other." He closed the door behind him with a slam that was exactly the right proportions of exasperated and sarcastic.

"You know, I'd wonder how he learned that," Talan said softly as he stared at the door, "but then I remember how much of his time he spends around us, and then it all makes perfect sense."

A few seconds later, the pale silver-white lights overhead turned dark, and a softly glowing matrix of light appeared over the darkness. Talan turned in his chair to see Desslok studying a spinning disk made of millions of pinpricks of light.

"Why are we using the hologram, which, I admit, is fairly impressive, when we can just look at the galaxies on a display?" Talan said with a long-suffering air.

"A display is a two-dimensional image, Talan. Space is not. In order to properly convey the spatial proportions, an image of three-dimensions is necessary."

"And I presume imitating a scientist is equally necessary when studying your fancy, twirling spatial models?"

"Naturally."

Talan leaned forward, trying to figure out what the hologram was displaying and giving himself a mental reminder to brush up on his Ancient Gamilon. "So, what are we looking for, exactly?"

Desslok held up the message capsule. "This. I already know it is an alloy of Cosmonite, and another rare element which has, apparently, a proclivity for being able to absorb large quantities of radioactive material and dispel it over a short period, retaining the radioactive components but discharging all others. And, according to the spectral scan, it is found in sufficiently high quantities only in this galaxy—" he gestured to the pale, starlit disk between him and Talan "—known to us as Centur Kliskhai. And the place with the highest concentration is here, on Terra." The galactic image was suddenly replaced with a small solar system of approximately eleven planets, all surrounding a moderately bright yellowish star. The hologram zeroed in on the third planet, a dark brown sphere covered with layers of white clouds and the occasional spot of emerald heralding vegetation.

"So this is what Terra looks like," Talan said. "I presume this was copied from Earthling ship data?"

"Indeed."

"A Terran trick, then?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Talan looked up. His friend's face was guarded, but Talan could tell from the hopeful light in his eyes that there was something he had missed. (Of course, there was always something he had missed when it came to Desslok, but that was irrelevant.) "What is it now? A little nick in the paint that means it was stolen and reprogrammed?"

Desslok laughed at that. As this accursed war continued, it became increasingly difficult to make him show genuine amusement instead of the mirthless laughter which had become commonplace in his dealings with the Terrans. "An interesting idea, my friend, but no. They would have known we could locate the device's point of origin if they used such a rare material. They would have _expected_ us to. Therefore, the most likely, if still improbable, conclusion is that the sender of the device intentionally constructed it so we would know this is a genuine message instead of a trick."

"Wonderful. He's been using the holographic galactic display system again."

Talan spun around, and stopped his battle preparations midway through when he noticed the speaker was merely Senior General Krypt. Krypt noticed and raised an eyebrow. "I'm only a frail old general. Don't mind me."

"Old, yes. Frail? Highly unlikely."

"Excuse me!"

"Be happy I didn't agree with you."

Krypt shrugged and crossed over to Desslok, who was monitoring the reports sent in by the Gamilon fighter bases. Stationed along the moons of the neighboring planets, the bases worked independently of other fleet support to repel hostile intrusion into the Gamilon/Iscandarian area. For the most part, they were successful, allowing only the occasional patrol to break through their net. "Kai's squadron seems to be more intended for fleet support than independent action," the Gamilon Leader said calmly.

"That was their initial training, yes," Krypt said. A light sparkled in Desslok's dark eyes, in the way it always did when he had a plan in mind.

Krypt must have noticed it as well, because he said dryly, "While you still are paying attention, I must inform you that the Council has convened and been discussing the current situation."

"Is that so."

Krypt lifted the message capsule. "Hmm. Intriguing device. It appears similar to those in use by the Gamilon-Iscandarian alliance, but the creation is far more modern. A long-distance communicator, likely with only a single intended recipient—!"

He suddenly dropped the device as it glowed a vibrant blue and then faded into a holographic display, with a slight bluish tint still to the image. The hologram showed only a young woman, with medium-length blonde hair and gentle brown eyes that seemed somehow. . . haunted. She glanced to the sides of the image, and then said in a gentle voice, "I can only hope that those of you who see this message will be either Queen Starsha, her sister, Astra, Leader Desslok, or a highly placed member of the Gamilon hierarchy. If this message plays at all, I will know it has reached both Gamilons and Iscandarians.

She paused, considering, and then said softly, "I am Nova of Earth, or what your people would know better as Terra. Suffice it to say that I believe that what my people are doing is wrong, for to say anything more would compromise the few friends I have left. You will already know that the message capsule I have sent to you is composed of an alloy of Cosmonite and what we know as Purificium. This alloy enhances the natural traits of Purificium to their maximum potential. This capsule could likely purify at least an area approximately 32 acres if given sufficient time. However, time is something which is short to us all. Thus, the scientists on Earth have created a mechanism, which we know as the Cosmo-DNA, that makes this purification process almost instantaneous.

Nova smiled for the first time, something that made her features light and delicate and completely destroyed that haunted look in her eyes. "So, I offer this chance to you. If you are capable of traversing the journey to Earth and back in time to save your homeworld, then you shall receive this gift." She looked away for a moment, her eyes darkening once more. "But I cannot send it to you. My influence here, even on my homeworld, is limited. It took much to be able to transport this to you. It is you who must carry out the journey."

"I am certain you will come."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four  
August 18, 2199  
1543 Hours, Earth Time  
Unknown Location

She walked alone through the abandoned city.

Light still shone here, but only in the flame she held in her hand. The rest was only in her memories.

She reached the door and slid it open, her light reflecting off pools of water in which plants grew and thrived, as a memory of what had once been.

What her people had torn away from Iscandar and Gamilon.

Her eyes still stung as she remembered those days. Commander Singleton had been like a surrogate father to her, the one who had taught her about the harsh realities of the world. And also of the darkness in people's hearts.

But could anyone have guessed that another people had dared attack their homeworld? Could anyone have anticipated the bombing raids, the nights of constant terror, before what had been their world had ended in smoke and fire?

She remembered that so clearly. She had been serving at Central Hospital that night, the little coincidence that had saved her life. She had just exited the building, glancing up at the sky to spot a late-night raid, when she had seen the streak of red and gold across the sky. The light of something undergoing reentry into the Earth's atmosphere.

And then it had slammed into the earth, and there had been an explosion which consumed all she saw before it went black.

After that, Wildstar had become darker, deadlier. His inclination towards vengeance had gone too far. He had not been merely satisfied with the destruction of those who had attacked Earth without provocation. He had to conquer, so, as he said, no one would ever feel as the people of Earth had felt again.

But, absorbed in his quest, he had noticed that he had become identical to those who he had sworn vengeance against.

It was at Iscandar and Gamilon where she finally decided she could stand by no longer. They were wholly innocent, in alliance which forbade them to attack one another. And since the whole of the Magellanic Clouds were the territory of either one or the other, they had no nearby threats.

She slowly walked through the garden, passing into the final room that somewhat resembled a darkened, miniaturized version of the EDF Headquarters. This was why she was here. An unidentified alert from the message capsule.

Her hands flew across the keyboard as she accessed the data. The route consisted of a maze of interconnected backdoors, with no small amount of hacking. Some would call such precautions paranoid, but there were geniuses in the EDF. Some might turn against her.

The display changed, switching to the alert. There was only a single line of text.

**Message received by both parties. Message was viewed and acknowledged.**

She smiled for the first time in months, triumph lightening her heart, before she remembered her people. Those she had just betrayed.

Nova lifted her gaze to the stone ceiling, above which, she knew, her closest friend stood.

"I'm sorry, Derek," Nova whispered as tears began to fall from her dark eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five  
August 19, 2199  
0935 Hours, Earth Time  
Council Chamber, Gamilon Capital City

_The Council will not like this, Desslok said,_ Krypt thought with no small amount of annoyance. _And was he right._

"How can we trust this Nova?" Volgar yelled for the third time that day. "She's an Earthling! How can we trust any of their race?"

"What other choice have we?" Lysis demanded sharply. "I knew you were an idiot, Volgar, but I didn't know you would go so far as to renounce our only chance of survival!"

"And it is a better course of action to blindly follow her to our deaths?" Shultz shot back. "I know that is folly, Lysis!"

"And the last of our fleet was destroyed at Rajendora!" Kranshaw shouted, slamming his fist on the table. "We have only a single ship left at our disposal, and it cannot both defend us and embark on an interstellar mission."

"To the contrary," Lysis snapped, "to head directly for their home planet would force them to redirect defenses to repel us."

"And that is a truly _wonderful_ plan, Lysis," Volgar hissed. "Purposely redirect attacks to a single ship and hope it somehow miraculously is able to fight against larger attacks than even our good battle at Rajendora. _Brilliant, _my friend!"

Desslok calmly rested his left hand on the table and silence fell almost immediately.

"You forget something," he said softly. "The message was addressed to Gamilon and Iscandar. Iscandar is in the same peril as we are. And, they have always been our superiors in the field of technology not relating to war. It is likely they have ships in reserve."

"You would consult with them?" Krypt asked, hiding his shock. _I always knew you were more friendly towards them than others, but I never expected this. . ._

"I would," Desslok said as he stood. "And, as time is something we have very little of, we must do so immediately. Krypt, Talan, you will accompany me along with Major Kranshaw."

"So, what will we do, _sir_?" Volgar said coolly.

Desslok gave him a sharp look. "Wait, until I contact you with the outcome of the meeting on Iscandar," he said calmly. "Unless you are _discontented_, Volgar? Under normal circumstances, I would allow you that, if for no other reason than for my amusement, but a great number of the very people you would protect would be affected. Bear that in mind as you make your move, _my friend_."

He turned and left, gesturing for Talan, Krypt, and Kranshaw to follow. Krypt walked forward to stand at Desslok's side, and he hissed, "Volgar has become rebellious. I fear he may move against you."

"Then I am greatly benefited by the fact that it is you who will be dealing with them."

Krypt stopped dead. "_What?_"

"It is my intention to make the voyage to Earth unless physically impossible. I am also of the opinion that this Nova will be anticipating me and Starsha. So, I will be accompanying the voyage."

"You-" Krypt spluttered. "You're leaving us now? In the middle of a _war_? _Are you mad?_" Then something else hit him, and he nearly shouted, "And you're leaving Gamilon while a civil war is brewing? Not only does that make it even more likely the rebellious factions will attempt to seize control, _have you any idea how simple it is to destroy a single battleship_?"

"I have survived my fair share of assassination attempts, Krypt," Desslok said dryly. "I do not need you to remind me."

Krypt sighed and pressed his hands to his head. "As you wish, Leader."

Desslok gave him a strange look, but then turned away to confer with Talan.

Krypt fell back a few paces, and was startled out of his thoughts when Kranshaw said, "No disrespect meant, but how do you deal with him?"

Krypt laughed hollowly. "You'll learn how to handle it eventually."

* * *

The Gamilon transport gently lowered through the opening for the hangar, out of the sun untamed by any atmosphere. Slowly, the shielding slid back over the bay, turning the harsh light into something bearable. Waiting at the edge of the landing was a single young woman with dark blonde hair. She dipped her head as Desslok climbed from the craft, and said in a soft voice, "Leader Desslok, Senior General Krypt, General Talan. Queen Starsha awaits you in her council chambers." She turned towards a small crystalline hovercraft and entered, followed by the Gamilons.

_I was here once before,_ Desslok thought as they passed through the city. _The underground Mothertown. Now. . . I am not sure if it would have been better had they not replicated it so well. Like this, it is a reminder of how the original city was forever lost to the accursed Earthlings._

Because the city was beautiful. The entire crystalline expanse shone with light than came from within rather than without. Shielded windows to the surface provided pale shafts of light which illuminated pools and gardens.

But the cruel fact of the underground imprisonment was undeniable. The sky of this shining city was the underside of Iscandar's crust, a stark and unforgettable reminder of what had been lost.

"Remember this, Talan," he said softly. "That we are no different from each other, save in appearance."

* * *

Queen Starsha rose from her chair and dipped her head to Desslok before turning to the Iscandarian woman. "Lady Yileena, you may go."

The young woman bowed deeply and left. As soon as she did, Starsha turned and said quietly, "Leader Desslok. What brings you here?"

"This," Desslok said, placing the message capsule on the table and triggering it. As the message played, he studied Starsha's face. She was tensing as the display went on, and as the message ended, she sighed and passed a hand over her face.

"So, what is keeping you from invading Earth for this 'Cosmo-DNA'?" Starsha said coldly. "Why are you even here?"

"We are not going to invade!" Kranshaw said hotly. "We would _never-_"

"Clearly, you are unfamiliar with your people's recent history," Starsha snapped. "That is _exactly_ what I would expect from you."

"_Enough_," Desslok said sharply. "We are here to _negotiate_, Starsha. Nothing more."

"Very well," Starsha said, sliding back into her chair. "What is it you are here for?"

"We intend to make the journey to Earth, but to do so would leave us undefended."

Starsha sighed. "Go, then. We will survive without your _protection_."

"Then we shall," Kranshaw snapped, "and when we return with the Cosmo-DNA, rest assured we will not be sharing it with you!"

Starsha raised her hand, and Kranshaw froze, caught in her psionic shield.

"You threaten me in my own house?" she hissed. "I could slay you with a_ thought_, you_ insolent_-"

"Sister, **_stop_**!"

Starsha turned as a young girl with long gold hair ran into the room.

"Sasha!"

Sasha waved her hand and Kranshaw staggered as she dispelled the psychic field. Starsha knelt down by the girl and said gently, "Sasha, can you go wait for me in the other room? And don't worry about what you detect, I'll be fine-"

"I detected anger, sister," Sasha said, "but it came from _you_."

Starsha stiffened.

"They are not deceiving you, Star," she said softly. "They truly do wish for your help."

"Sasha. . ."

"And why are you turning them away? We need each other's help. _And they have the one with the blood of Iscandar and Gamilas. . ._"

Starsha's eyes narrowed. "Do not speak of this, Sasha. It is Iscandarian alone."

"Will you help them?"

Starsha looked up. "It seems my little sister is wiser than any of us. Very well, I will assist you."

Desslok nodded. "In what manner?"

Starsha gestured to a screen on the right wall. It flickered, the dark crystal turning to a sharp image of a wreck of a warship submerged in the surface of Iscandar. "This is the _Yamato_, an Iscandarian battleship from the ancient rebellions before Iscandar was united under a single leader. We can rebuild it to its original capabilities, but to turn it into a warship. . . that is your task."

"Could you not assist us, Queen Starsha?" Talan asked.

"That would break the peace we have held. But more to the point, Gamilon knows more of the art of war."

"And if this mission is to succeed, Gamilon and Iscandar must become one," Sasha said. "By combining your efforts to build a ship which can make the journey, you have already begun down the path to success."

Starsha nodded as if she understood, but Desslok suspected she knew no more than any of them. "Sasha, could you take the others into the other room and give them the data we have on the _Yamato?_ I must speak with Leader Desslok privately."

Sasha nodded, and the solemn air about her dissipated and she became nothing more than a young child again. She beckoned happily to the Gamilons, who (with varying amounts of trepidation) followed her out.

The door closed behind them, and Starsha turned to Desslok.

"Now," she said, "what has become of my sister, Astra? She should be here."

"Starsha. . . Astra is dead."

There was a moment of silence, and then Starsha said softly, "No, no, it-it _cannot! It cannot be true!_"

"You know the answer to that."

Starsha let out a soft cry then, and a gentle wind blew through the room, stirring her hair into motion that did not stop even after the breeze dissipated.

Desslok slowly crossed over to her, stroking her light blonde hair as tears fell from her pale golden eyes. At length, she lifted her head and whispered, "Then, I must help you. Astra. . . she always felt it was cowardly of us to stand by while you fought and died for us. She said there were some things worth fighting for."

She looked up, the sorrow in her eyes hardening to resolve. "She was right. This is worth fighting for. For Astra, we must do this. No matter the cost."

"Yes. _For Astra._"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six  
October 3, 2199  
0800 Hours, Earth Time  
Earth Advance Base, Planet Rajendora

"Sir, we're picking up something strange from Iscandar."

"Well? Don't leave us guessing, Lieutenant."

Chuckles spread through the room as the young officer saluted crisply. "Sir, what I mean is that we've picked up signatures which would indicate the construction of a warship."

Dash leaned back in his chair, frowning. "You're certain this is Iscandar? The planets do look awfully similar."

"Yeah, now that we've bombed them to within an inch of their lives!" a young officer yelled. Approving nods spread throughout the room.

Dash scowled and barked, "People! You are _on duty_! Concentrate on your screens! You'll have plenty of time to yell at lunch!"

Slowly, they turned around. Dash shrugged at the lieutenant. "It gets rowdy up here, since most of us don't have a darn thing to do unless the Gamilons decide to attack like they did seventeen days ago."

"I heard about that, sir," the lieutenant said nervously. "Wasn't there only one flagship that escaped?"

"Yeah, the one with the enemy head of state on it. I swear, the guy has more lives than a _cat_." Dash patted the lieutenant's shoulder. "And don't worry about this 'sir' business. Unlike drill sergeants, us actual commanders don't stand much on formality."

"Thanks."

The lieutenant returned to his post, and Dash let out a long sigh and shut his eyes.

_So. Those Iscandarian pacifists are finally building a warship. We think. Wildstar is in one of his 'moods' again, according to Sandor. Not the best idea to report that now, especially with the Nova catastrophe. Still. . . I'll keep an eye on it. If it IS a warship. . . I don't see how one ship could change much, but I don't want to take that chance. . ._

* * *

"Talan. How goes the reconstruction of the_ Yamato_?"

"Sire, the hull refit has been completed with Iscandarian assistance-" a cable snapped loose and whipped around, spraying sparks in all directions "-and the installation of the Wave Motion Engine is proceeding on schedule-" he grabbed the offending cable and tried to hold it in place "-as are the upgrades to the weapons to make it capable of fighting back against a Terran fleet." He threw the cable down and stamped it out with his boot.

"Wonderful. Oh, and, Talan?"

"Yes, sire?"

"I am aware you were engaged in a wrestling match with a cable throughout the entirety of that discussion."

Desslok cut off the communication and Talan let out a long sigh. A nearby Iscandarian noticed and said gently, "General, what's wrong?"

"_Him_. I sometimes wonder why he even bothers listening to me."

The Iscandarian patted his shoulder. "I think it's because he _does_ care about your opinions on the matter." He saluted and began wrestling with the selfsame cable Talan had been dealing with.

Talan smiled slightly as the Iscandarian, with the help of two Gamilons, finally succeeded in hooking it up properly. One of them wiped his forehead and saluted when he caught Talan's eyes. "Sir, construction of our little _surprise_ has been completed. The first bridge is also repaired."

Talan nodded to the engineer and headed up the lift.

* * *

It was somewhat ironic how two locations in the same ship could be so different. In contrast to the open, half-finished look of the engineering spaces, the bridge was sleek and clean. Several officers were moving between posts, checking over readouts of the ship's refit.

"General!" an officer shouted, saluting, and the others quickly followed suit.

"At ease, gentlemen," Talan said as he crossed over to the front of the bridge, watching his reflection in the forward windows. "What is the ship's current state of readiness?"

"About 63%, sir," a white-haired Gamilon officer reported. "In other words, we _could_ launch, but it wouldn't be pleasant. And we'd likely fall in the face of a battle with an Earthling patrol."

"And you are?"

"Venikira, sir. I was on the Leader's flagship at Rajendora."  
Talan nodded, recalling the stout, bearded officer. He had distinct sense that if Kimal and Venikira ever met, they would be immediate friends.

"Carry on, men. Inform me of any anomalies immediately, understood?"

They all saluted and split off into their separate groups. Not long after Talan had given this order, a brown-haired official in the uniform of the Logistics division came up to him and said crisply, "General, here's the final crew list of all personnel, Iscandarian and Gamilon."

Talan took the sheaf of papers from him and flipped through it. Most of the names were unfamiliar to him, but he did notice that the bulk of the Iscandarians aboard were stationed in the Mechanical and Life Sciences divisions, whereas the Gamilons were in the Tactical and Engineering divisions. Approximately an equal number of Iscandarians and Gamilons made up the Navigation division.

Finally, he reached the bridge crew, nodding in approval as he noticed that Xandir and Venikira were assigned to command Tactical and Engineering. They could keep the crewmembers in those divisions in line.

The people at the tactical radar and communications were unfamiliar to him, as both were Iscandarians, but the next name was very familiar to him. "Queen Starsha is commanding _Life Sciences_?"

The official shrugged. "She insisted."

Talan glanced through the last four names. An unknown Gamilon had been assigned to Artillery, the secondary of Tactical. Desslok, of course, was in command, and he had been appointed Executive Officer and head of Mechanical.

He stopped when he read the last name. "You cannot be serious. He _cannot_ be head of Navigation, let alone even_ be here_!"

"He's the most skilled pilot in the fleet. He'll be an excellent Navigation officer."

Talan scowled. He was tempted to continue the argument, but nothing would become of it.

"Dismissed, Corporal." The officer walked off, and Talan turned to look out the window.

_I suppose,_ he thought, _that he wouldn't know what transpired at Rajendora. How his brother gave his life to ensure we could escape. He does not know it happened at Damiru's request. All he knows is that his brother has been killed so we could live. And who knows what he will do with that information. . ._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven  
October 6, 2199  
1103 Hours, Earth Time  
Space Battleship _Yamato_, Beneath the Surface of Iscandar

"Commander Mekaer reporting, sir!" snapped the young officer as he saluted crisply to him. He was dressed in the uniform of the Fifth Independent Fighter Base, a black uniform with sleek gold markings.

Talan accepted the identification card from him and handed it off to another official. The verification process gave him sufficient time to study the young officer.

He wore the rank pins of a squadron leader, and a few symbolic pins which represented medals. Oddly for a pilot, his brown hair fell over his eyes in a manner that Talan guessed was intentionally rebellious rather than accidental.

But the young officer's eyes were neither those of the star pilot or the rebellious young officer. They blazed with a hidden fire which put him uncomfortably in mind of Desslok's eyes, though his were colder, more deadly. Mekaer's eyes were sharp and passionate, but they also belied the faintest trace of hatred that was hidden in his sharp salute.

The official handed Talan the identification card, nodding, and Talan returned it to him. As Mekaer tucked the card back into his uniform, Talan said, "You'll be commanding the Navigation division. I recommend heading to the bridge as soon as possible to familiarize yourself with the navigation systems, since the rest of the crew arrived yesterday due to them not having to be transported in from the farther bases."

Mekaer nodded, and Talan was beginning to hope all this would go smoothly when he said, "Sir, if I may ask, why are_ you_, one of the highest ranking officers of the Fleet and Leader Desslok's personal friend, handling signing me in?"

This Commander was really reminding him _far_ too much of Desslok for comfort. "I will follow my orders, Commander," he said, and mentally chided himself instantly. _You idiot, the point was to keep him from resenting us any further than he already does!_ Judging by the flash in Mekaer's eyes, he had said exactly the wrong thing. "That is loyalty."

"I see," Mekaer said slowly as he left. Upon reaching the door, he saluted quickly before more or less slamming the door behind him.

Talan shook his head. "I am tempted to go put on a suit of armor until Desslok and Mekaer have finished destroying this ship."

* * *

"Sir, we're reading an increase in tachyonic radiation from that ship. If this isn't confirmation, than nothing is. The Iscandarians have built a warship."

Dash sighed, and stiffened again as another officer reported, "And they've transported about half a ship's complement from Gamilon and the surrounding areas. Intelligence says we think they've teamed up."

"Oh, for the love of-" Dash bit his lip, since most of the words he was thinking of using were a bit strong for a commanding officer of an invasion, especially when he worked under Derek Never-Swears Wildstar himself.

"Okay. Lieutenant, have our nearby patrol groups head over to take that thing out. Um. . . other Lieutenant, you open a channel directly to Wildstar. No, wait, to his _office_. I do not want to catch him showering or something."

"Sir. . . it's 1100 Hours on Earth."

"Yeah?"

"And. . . it's a Thursday."

"Just do it!"

* * *

He was simply grateful they hadn't yet told him to put on one of those ridiculous green-and-white armored uniforms everyone else in his division was wearing. His military façade would have simply changed and put it out of his mind, but he abhorred the idea of obeying any more commands than strictly necessary. _"I will obey my orders, Commander."_ Did they even _care_ about his brother, or had they just told him to die and forgotten about it?

Mekaer flipped a few superfluous switches to make it seem as though he was working. This panel was so different from a fighter's cockpit, where each bolt had been designed with a specific purpose in mind. As soon as he could get permission, he was going to completely rebuild this stupid panel.

"What's your name?"

Mekaer looked over at the speaker, another Gamilon with shorter brown hair. "Mekaer," he said shortly, turning his gaze back to the control panel and mentally counting the amount of levers which would actually serve a purpose.

"I'm Xandir."

Seventeen. Out of thirty-eight. Really.

"Good for you."

"Finally, you've met someone ruder than _you!_"

He looked over at the speaker, a young man with pale blonde hair seated at the control panel. Another Iscandarian, like his second-in-command.

"I thought Iscandarians were supposed to be pacifists?" Mekaer said as he checked over the panel according to his military-issue checklist. Like the board, the majority of it was absolutely useless.

"There's a big difference between being a pacifist and being _nice_. And what about you? Except for the hair, you fill out every stereotype about Gamilons there is!"

Mekaer got to his feet, glaring at him. "And you'll never understand us, because only someone who's been in battle can understand the pain of losing a friend to war!"

"A war that maybe wouldn't have happened if you hadn't invited it over for dinner!"

"You think we _asked_ for the Terrans to come and drop radioactive material on our planets? You think I _asked_ for my brother to die in this war?"

The Iscandarian gave him another sharp look. "Why must you always turn discussions into fighting? This is what I mean! If you could learn to curb your _tempers_-"

"Let's see how you react when some of your own people die to this war, _Iscandarian_!"

"So you think we've been unaffected by this war? We've lost as many as you have!"

"Oh? I've read your records. There was a deadly plague that was completely eradicated by the Earthling attacks! _We_ weren't benefited by something like that. So, who _really_ suffered more from this war?"

"That's enough."

Mekaer froze. Even if the Iscandarian didn't recognize him, he did. He most certainly did. . .

"You forget that both sides were harmed by this war," Leader Desslok said coolly, but with a deadly undercurrent to his words. "If this mission fails, then _both_ Iscandar and Gamilon are doomed to destruction. You would do well to remember that."

Mekaer gritted his teeth. There he was, the same person who sent his brother off to die. And he was under his direct command?

_Deal with him later_, a voice whispered in his mind. _For now, you'll be more benefited by acting loyal. Let your vengeance for Damiru wait. Until a time when it would be best suited to carry it out. . ._

"I'm sorry, sir," he said as he saluted. "I allowed my emotions to take the place of better judgement. It won't happen again."

Desslok nodded, and he returned to his post.

_Funny_, Mekaer thought as he continued the checklist, making revisions whenever he deemed it necessary. _That could just as easily refer to my private agenda as well as my stated one. "I allowed my emotions to take the place of better judgement". . . One thing's for sure: you'll never be able to attack him while having your emotions dictate your actions. . ._

A beeping sounded, and he instinctively looked over at the tactical radar screen. A tightly clustered group of blips was heading towards their position.

"Leader Desslok, Queen Starsha. . . I'm picking up a group of bogies, heading in this direction!"

Queen Starsha? He looked behind him, and, sure enough, there she was, wearing that blue dress of hers. He wondered when she'd shown up, since she certainly wasn't there when he was having his fight with the Iscandarian communications officer.

"Starsha, what's your opinion?"

Hmm. Starsha, operating the Cosmo-Radar. Wasn't that a bit of a menial position for a queen? And, certainly, she couldn't like be under Desslok's command any more than he did. . .

"Confirmed; Terran patrol units, heading right for us!"

"Are you certain, your Majesty?" the Iscandarian radar operator (Rashura) said as his hands flew over the panel. "All I've got is bearing; they must be jamming us!"

"Believe me, it's Terran!" Starsha said. "Recommend liftoff immediately!"

"Venikira, can we do that?"

"Conditions aren't optimal, but we can."

"Very well!" Desslok snapped. "Xandir, begin priming the weapons! Mekaer, launch sequence, _now_!"

Mekaer swallowed hard as he looked at the rock covering the windows. Taking off under battle conditions was second nature to him, but not when factoring in a 285-meter battleship he had no experience in piloting, which was submerged in a layer of rock which would require a specialized launch sequence, and which had a 50% chance of exploding without even launching. . .

_Sometimes, I really hate being pessimistic._

* * *

"Dash, repeat that, if you please."

"The Gamilons and Iscandarians have built a space battleship which they are now launching, sir. I have taken the liberty of launching a force to destroy them as they launch."

Wildstar's eyes narrowed. "This is no doubt a response to the Nova Conspiracy. Ensure they do not escape, Dash. You know what will happen if they succeed."

"Yes. I do."

The screen went black.

"Sir, the 'Nova Conspiracy'?"

"A formerly respected EDF officer who went rogue and committed treason to help this bunch. We'll need to be very careful about this, Lieutenant. _Very_ careful."

"Even if it's got Desslok involved?"

"_Especially_ if it's got Desslok involved. I don't even want to _think_ about the consequences of him knowing about this."

* * *

"Sir, auxiliary engine powerup completed!" Mekaer shouted, gripping the control sticks with both hands as the ship rocked wildly from another hit. The rock over the windows was starting to slip from the blows that had struck it.

"Aye, powerup completed, now preparing to engage main engine!" Venikira shouted.

"How long until we can fight _back?"_ Xandir hissed as he watched the battle display on the main screen.

"Let us do our job and then you can do yours!" Mekaer snapped back as he flipped switches in preparation for the sudden influx of power that would soon follow.

"Another wave is diving!" Starsha shouted.

He flipped on the alert klaxons as the ship rumbled from another hit.

"Talan, can we even _take off_ after the damage they've incurred?"

"We don't have another option!" Talan shot back as he monitored the reports streaming in from the separate divisions.

"Can the fighters take off via the upper catapults?" Mekaer asked him as he watched the needle on the power gauge creeping up. 20. . . 40. . . 60. . .

Talan blinked and said, "I don't see why not. . ."

"Then have them launch!" Desslok shouted, and Mekaer saw him give him an approving nod.

"Fighters launching!" Xandir shouted. "Eat it, Terrans!"

"The fighters are successfully pushing the destroyers back," Starsha said. "I estimate three minutes until they are destroyed."

"I take it you don't know Kai, ma'am," Mekaer said. "They'll hold them back."

"Open the valve to the wave motion engine starting cylinder!" Venikira barked. "Two minutes to ignition!"

The deck rumbled again, but this time it was from the whir of the main engine beginning to spin.

"Power level approaching 100%," Mekaer said as he kept his eye on the power gauge. "Begin detonation sequence for demolition charges!"

He pulled back on a lever, and called into the intercom, "Brace for detonation and launch in one minute!"

"Auxiliary engines reaching maximum output!"

"Power level approaching 120%! Activate flywheel!"

"Activate flywheel, _aye_!" Venikira shouted as, far below, the sleek engine began to slowly turn.

"Demolition charges armed!" Xandir called.

"Begin ten second countdown!" Mekaer shouted. He looked up at the screen, gritting his teeth. _Just hold off for ten more seconds. . ._

"_Wait!_" Talan shouted. "Severe damage to Engineering spaces! We have to abort!"

"_Belay that_!" Desslok snapped. "Continue the countdown!"

"My report coincides with Talan's!" Venikira yelled. "We'll have to abort!"

Desslok smiled. "Trust me."

Mekaer gave him a strange look, and Desslok nodded ever so slightly. Mekaer turned around and snapped, "Continue the countdown!"

"_Mekaer_?" Venikira said.

_My thoughts exactly. . . he killed my brother, and yet why do I feel as if I. ._ _. understand him?_

"It'll work!"

"Very well! Continue countdown sequence!"

Mekaer narrowed his eyes as the rock slipped further. _Come on. . ._

"Ten. . . nine. . ."

The ship rocked again, and he heard the sound of an explosion deep within the bowels of the ship.

"Eight. . . seven. . ."

"Leader, we have to abort!"

"Six. . . five. . ."

The flywheel sped up, glowing brightly as the Iscandarium and Gamilashium in its core shone with a deadly emerald-sapphire flame. . .

"Four. . ."

The rock cracked further, revealing blue sky and ships ready to fire. . .

"Three. . ."

Starsha gasped in shock as she felt another psychic presence keeping the ship from dying as she was reborn in a deadly baptism of fire. . .

"Two. . ."

"Demolition charges, _activate!_"

"One. . ."

All around the ship, the carefully placed charges exploded, revealing the massive ship to the Earthlings for the first time.

"Wave Motion Engine, _ignition!_"

"_Yamato,_ **_launch_**!"

The ship and surrounding area rocked with a sound like a peal of thunder as the engine glowed pure white as the ship detached from the crust of Iscandar.

The Space Battleship _Yamato_ lifted free from the surface and blasted towards the shocked Terran fleet like the avenging angel of Gamilon and Iscandar.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight  
October 6, 2199  
1353 Hours, Earth Time  
Earth Defense Headquarters, Megalopolis

The alarms screeched in her ears as Wendy Singleton pivoted and fired the practice-intensity rifle into the guard's thigh. He gasped in pain and fell to the ground as she leaped over him and dashed on through the darkened hallway.

Another guard came from the shadows and grabbed her long brown hair, yanking on it so hard she almost dropped her rifle. "Traitorous conspirator!"

"That's original," she gasped out, struggling to keep her footing. "Did you come up with that all by yourself?"

The guard stamped roughly on her foot. "You'll have all the time you like to make up snarky comments in the brig!"

There was a sound of glass shattering, and then his hand went slack as he toppled over backward.

"And _you_," an older voice snapped, "made me waste a perfectly good bottle of Spring Water!"

Wendy sighed and turned to face the stout, balding MD clutching the neck of what had been a glass bottle. "Judging by the smell, I'd say your 'spring water' is anything but."

"I saw you downing plenty of this stuff last Wednesday."

"And had a splitting headache for five days afterwards."

Suddenly, a tall Marine grabbed Sane by the back of his shirt and lifted him to shoulder height, kicking and screaming curses. Wendy moved to rescue him, but she was beaten to the punch.

Literally, as a fist rammed right into the nose of the Marine, and then a foot hit him in the stomach.

"Sorry I'm late," a gruff voice said as the owner of the fist stepped through a gaping hole in the wall that she swore had not been there five seconds ago. "Got a bit tied up replacing all the confidential files with Wildstar's baby pictures."

"Captain!" she yelled happily.

Avatar nodded and adjusted his cap. "As the Marines are learning, old people can be just as skilled at the fine art of breaking someone's nose as anyone else. Now, where is our good friend Nova?"

"Same place we were trying to get to before I had to waste my sak-_spring water-_ on his head," Sane grumbled as he gestured to the unconscious guard.

Avatar chuckled and and suddenly executed a perfect _ushiro mawashi geri _right into an approaching officer's ribcage. He went down with a sharp groan.

"Are you certain she is safe?" he demanded, straightening up.

Wendy nodded, still slightly dazed by the speed of his attack. "She has IQ with her."

"Ah. Nothing like a robot with an unerasable crush to provide unflinching bodyguard duty." He turned and walked down the hall, Captain's peacoat billowing out behind him.

The floor shook as a wall exploded inward, showering them all with dust and small fragments of bulkhead. Then the guards swarmed them.

Wendy was only aware of a few distinct sensations as she alternately bashed and shot people with her rifle. Doctor Sane's high-pitched voice split the air as he assaulted the others with his 'Spring Water' bottles, followed by Avatar's deeper, more gravelly _kiai_ as he fought his way through more enemies than both of them combined.

She was more than a little surprised by the skill he exhibited. She had heard the stories of his martial abilities, but she hadn't realized they were actually _true_.

A distinctly non-human battle cry startled her out of her thoughts as a certain self-proclaimed genius robot crashed into the ranks of the soldiers, freely tossing them in all directions.

"IQ, try not to kill anybody, okay?"

Wendy turned at the sound of the soft alto, and immediately noticed the slender form and blonde hair of her best friend, Nova Forrester.

IQ responded with something completely incomprehensible, and Nova sighed and turned. Her face lit up when she saw the three of them, especially Avatar.

"Captain," she said with a gentle smile. "You're here, at last." She pulled them all into a hug, and then said, "It worked. They got the message."

"The Gamilons are coming?" Avatar said, stroking his white beard with his free hand. "Excellent work, Nova."

Nova blushed slightly at his praise, and turned back to the board. "But there's something I can't access," she said softly, almost to herself. "It's obviously about the war, but I can't find out what. . ."

Someone popped up from between the consoles, and Nova immediately kicked him in the head.

Wendy scratched her head. "Is everyone except me some sort of martial arts master?"

Sane took a long swig of his bottle and said, "_Si est ad esse asinum calce, Nova est qui calcitrare eam._"

"True enough."

Nova let out a shocked gasp and said, "They're coming _here_?" She looked over at the clock. "Ten minutes. . . we have to go, now."

Wendy ran up beside her. "Why-?"She broke off as she read the line of text:

_"Gamilon prisoners from Rajendora battle on 17 August to arrive at 1403 Hours at Megalopolis, Dock Eight."_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine  
October 6, 2199  
1358 Hours, Earth Time  
Space Battleship _Yamato_, Above the Surface of Iscandar

"Fire!" Xandir yelled, the first order of attack the _Yamato_ had heard in over a thousand years.

The main guns went off, sending bright blue energy flashing across the bleached plain towards the fleet, sending fire and shrapnel raining down on the surface of Iscandar.

Mekaer pulled back on the controls, sending the ship flying upwards into the ranks of the enemy.

"Missiles, fire!" Xandir barked. At his order, the missiles streaked into the Terran battleships, forcing them to scatter.

The destroyers were easy prey for the fighter squadrons, who took great pleasure in adding to the flashes of light burning in the sky from the _Yamato_'s attacks.

"Mekaer, get us under their firing angle!" Desslok ordered.

Mekaer gritted his teeth, barked out a terse, "Hold on, everybody!" and tilted the ship to starboard as another volley of Earthling fire came roaring in.

It never hit its target. The _Yamato_ twisted between the blasts in a move that made the battleship's superstructure groan from the strain as the beams streaked past the windows. As he spun the ship, one of the blasts skipped across the window, leaving plasma residue on the crystal.

The _Yamato_ ended up facing the rest of the enemy fleet, and Xandir took the opportunity to send several sapphire beams into the trailing destroyers before the ship spun one last time and ended up alongside the enemy flagship.

The entire bridge crew stared at him in shocked silence, before Desslok said, with a slight chuckle in his voice, "Impressive maneuver, my friend. Open fire!"

Mekaer was so focused on the 'my friend' comment that he jumped slightly when the guns went off and delivered a ferocious broadside right into the Terran flagship. Explosions began to ripple through the ship's hull, and Mekaer swiftly twisted the controls to the side and blasted away as the ship exploded behind them.

A battleship loomed up in front of them, weapons trained on the bridge. Before any of them could react, the guns trembled and exploded, a group of fighters flying triumphant through the fire.

"Sorry we're late!" Kai shouted over the intercom. "Got a little tied up kicking the Terrans back to Centur Klishkai!"

Desslok smiled slightly as he watched the fighters turning to form a screen around the ship.

"The ships are lining up for a shot at Mothertown!" Rashura snapped, bringing up an overhead image of the enemy fleet.

"Mekaer, full speed into the enemy fleet. Xandir, prepare for full broadside firing."

"Sir-!" the crew shouted, staring at him. Desslok smiled. They were unaware of his strategies. For the moment.

He met Talan's eyes and nodded slightly. Talan turned to the others and snapped, "You heard him. Do it!"

Mekaer scowled angrily as he looked at him. He was a skilled warrior, but there was resentment in his heart. Resentment well-founded.

The Navigation Commander turned around sharply and sent the ship blasting forwards, straight into the heart of the Terran fleet.

Desslok closed his eyes and said softly, "Now."

The main guns fired, turning to either side as they did. This maneuver made them serve almost as a sword as they cut into the Earth ships, sending them spinning into their counterparts.

Within a few moments, the area was quiet, save for the light of the wreckage burning as it fell to the surface below.

Xandir leaned back in his seat and said, "Kansir, you are one nice shot."

The black-haired Gamilon officer sighed and said, "Thanks, but it's the ship that's doing all the work." He patted his console. "She's more powerful than anything I've ever seen or had the pleasure of fighting on."

"Majesties," the communications officer said, turning around, "a message from the Gamilon Command."

"Switch it to the video panel, Quezar," Starsha said in her gentle voice.

The screen flickered and changed to an image of Senior General Krypt, who saluted and said, "Leader, we're picking up a new ship on our radar systems.I take it you have successful launched?"

"Indeed, Krypt," Desslok said, smirking, "and, along with it, have achieved our first unconditional victory against the Terrans."

Krypt's face lit up with joy as the loud sounds of cheering were heard in the background. "That is. . . excellent news," he said with a wide smile. "It seems all the suspicions were correct. Gamilon and Iscandar, together, truly can surpass any opponent." He saluted again as the image faded out.

Mekaer got to his feet, saying as he did, "Rashura, you can get some flying time in. I'm going to meet Kai and offer him my congratulations." The Iscandarian officer slid behind the controls, and Mekaer turned and headed for the exit, only barely managing to keep his military decorum.

Desslok looked around at the bridge crew, who still kept their solemn façade, even though he knew they wanted to celebrate. Of course, they were intimidated by his presence. Chuckling to himself, he said casually, "Talan, alert me if there are any concerns," and flicked the switch which activated the chair lift. As anticipated, it was mere moments before Talan walked in and locked the door behind him.

"I don't suppose there's anywhere for me to sit?" he asked, looking around the cabin.

Desslok laughed, watching the sky fade to the black of space. "Of course not."

Talan rolled his eyes and walked up to stand beside him. "And why did you leave the bridge, my friend? There was no need."

Desslok shook his head. "Nonsense. I am Desslok, Leader of Gamilon. They will not throw a party with me present."

"And what of Queen Starsha?"

"You saw how she addressed that 'Quezar'. She does not stand much on formality. So long as they do not desert their postings, she will allow them to throw as wild a celebration as they desire."

Talan snickered. "And Mekaer? Why did you allow him to leave?" There was a short pause, and then he said, "Ah. So, it was a ploy to make him think you are not so cruel as he is led to believe."

"Finally, I do not have to explain my planning to you."

"But you still haven't answered my question," Talan said. "I see the point about the party, but why is it so necessary?"

Desslok closed his eyes and said softly, "You heard what I told Krypt. 'Our first unconditional victory.' They will want to celebrate that. As they should, for I fear there will not be much cause for celebration in the coming months."

* * *

"Yeah!" Mekaer shouted, punching Kai lightly on the arm as he leaped from his fighter. "That blowing up of the battleship? _That's_ what I'm talking about!"

Kai grinned back as he playfully bopped his friend and former CO on the head with his helmet. "We finally got it! Hey, I think the brass are pretty glad to have a former fighter pilot as their head of Navigation!"

Kai's XO (Harusik) chuckled and said, "Yeah! Those moves you pulled, those were amazing!"

Mekaer laughed as he clapped him on the back. "If we keep it up, maybe we'll be able to win this thing after all!"

The three laughed uproariously, and then Kai said, "How is it, working with the Iscandarians?"

"You'd be surprised. There's still a couple who get on our cases about having to kill, but most of them regard this as 'a necessary evil.'"

"Whoa," Harusik said with a small grin. "Impressive."

Mekaer nodded and said, "I should probably get back to the bridge. Who knows if the Terrans are still snooping around out there." He disentangled himself from his fellow pilots and waved to them as he headed for the lift.

As he disembarked on the bridge and made his way to his seat, Rashura got to his feet and, after a moment of indecision, gave him a salute. When Mekaer raised his eyebrows, Rashura lowered his hand and said, very solemnly, "As of this moment, I formally declare that I couldn't care less if you're Gamilon." He patted him on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Mekaer. And a great pilot."

He smiled for the first time in months as he sat down behind the controls. Xandir turned to him, offering words of congratulations as they both stared out the windows towards empty space.

For the first time, it was they who had the advantage. And they would not be defeated so easily.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten  
October 6, 2199  
1403 Hours, Earth Time  
Dock Eight, Tokyo Megalopolis

"Don't make a sound," Nova breathed in her ear.

Wendy nodded her head ever so slightly, trying not to breathe too loudly. For them all, infiltration ops were old hat, but this was different. Before, they had always snuck in under cover of darkness, doing their job quickly and getting out without a trace. They always found their role models in the stories of the ancient ninja, warriors of night whose skills were subterfuge and sabotage.

This, on the other hand, was a samurai charge. It was bound to be suicidal.

Wendy was slightly gratified to know even the immortal Avatar was worried, although this was as much cause for alarm as anything.

The ten minute preparation time had been used to its full effect, all the skill of the brilliant tacticians in Nova and Avatar coming to play. IQ had been sent on ahead for scouting purposes while they had pulled in all their operatives in the entirety of Great Island for this: 15 elite stealth fighters in all.

She knew Homer was spearheading a division that was to steadily draw the flanking Marines away into the darkness without giving them time to sound the alarm. He had been trained by Avatar himself for this mission, and had once earned one of their mock-up decorations for a similar operation in March. The medal was just a hand-carved piece of brass on a red band, but she had never been more proud of her fiancé than that day.

Wendy smiled sadly at the thought as she heard the interruption of communications which signaled the beginning of the operation. A few moments later, she heard Hardy's Southern voice in her headset, acting as overhead surveillance, "You're clear. Good luck, Miss!"

She leaped to her feet along with the other three and ran for the wall of the building. From the hillock they had been hiding behind, it was a dash across ten meters of perfectly clear territory until they reached the safety of the wall. Hardy had timed it well, giving them the go-ahead on the exact moment the lights swept away to watch the outer edges of the station.

The metal building glowed red-hot for a moment before a small circular area of wall fell inward and was carefully lowered by IQ, whose lights were dimmed for the stealth mission. "All clear," he warbled in his electronic voice, and backed away to allow them to enter.

Upon leaping through the small hole, Wendy found herself on a small catwalk high above the docking floor, out of the glaring sun, or what would have been the glaring sun had not the orbit of the planet been disrupted when she was only twelve. Now, it was almost pitch black except for the various lights throughout the large bay.

Avatar nudged her shoulder and mouthed, "Those trucks must be how the prisoners are going to be transported." She looked where he was pointing and spotted a convoy of trucks pulling in through the doors.

Wendy reached for her comlink to tell Hardy to blow up the trucks, but Nova caught her wrist and shook her head. When Wendy gave her a strange look, she explained in a whisper, "We have to make a fast exit. The trucks will allow us to get beyond the city limits before the radar can catch up with us." Wendy nodded, and Nova continued, "We have to get down to the lower level before the transport gets here." She checked her watch, scowling. "Actually, it should've been here already."

She knew what Nova meant by that comment. The longer they stayed in any one location, the more likely it was for their cover to be blown.

"We still have to get down to the dock," Avatar whispered, and they carefully began climbing down the levels, using IQ-9's extending arms to bypass the stairways, the most dangerous point for a confrontation.

Nova had just hit the ground and Wendy, Avatar, and Sane were still in the air when the ground rumbled suddenly and Hardy yelled in their ears, "It's coming!"

Wendy glanced up, startled, to see a nondescript EDF patrol boat coming in with all its thrusters firing in an attempt to slow down from what must have been a very swift descent to have caught Hardy unawares like that.

Nova turned to them and made a ferocious "hurry up!" gesture with her free hand. In response, IQ triggered the anti-gravs in his torso to separate it from the rest of his and float the three of them to the floor. Wendy and the others clutched the nearby support beams to stay upright as the boat (with a very prominent 365 on its hull) came in for a landing.

"Now," Nova hissed, and IQ extended his antennae and triggered a disruption signal, deactivating half the systems and scrambling others. Nova leaped into the crush and dashed for the ship. Halfway there, the officers finally managed to get the hangar doors open. Immediately, a tall Gamilon officer leaped from the hangar and knocked one man to the ground before snatching up his sidearm and shooting out his chain.

"_Hauthir_!" he shouted as others charged out behind him. "_Calnis Gamilas_!"

At this, he charged directly into the ranks of the enemy, showing no qualms about shooting down several of them as the Earthlings tried to regroup and attack. Nova blinked at this, and jumped, startled, as Sane shouted, "Come on!"

Wendy looked at him in confusion. "'Come on'?"

The doctor rolled his eyes. "He's obviously in charge, isn't he? We have to coordinate with them!"

"Indeed."

Wendy spun around at the voice, and found she was facing a rather tall Gamilon officer with dark brown hair that fell across his face. His sharp eyes trailed over them as he said, "You are working against the others, correct? Rogue officers of a sort?"

Nova nodded, biting her lip. She wasn't entirely sure what the Gamilon was talking about.

After seeming to deliberate briefly with himself, he, to her great surprise, saluted and said, "I am Commander Frakken of the Gamilon Fleet. I was formerly the captain of the prototype Dimensional Submarine UX-01 before I was captured by the Terran officers at Rajendora."

"Rajendora? Neo-Pluto?" Wendy said.

Frakken shrugged and called out something into the crowd as if hailing a cab (if they had cabs on Gamilon) and, just like hailing a cab, another Gamilon officer with shorter brown hair appeared from the crowd, panting slightly.

"Ah, Frakken," he said tiredly. "Good. We couldn't have gotten far without their assistance." He gave the same salute as Frakken had, and then said, "I'm Admiral Damiru. Could you get us transport out?"

"Certainly," Avatar said. Damiru looked between him and Sane, and muttered something to himself.

He noticed the strange looks they were giving him and said in a normal voice, "I only said that you two seem to be almost like Venikira and Kimal."

"Who?" Nova said, and ducked as laser fire went whizzing over their heads. "On second thought, maybe we could, you know, get out?"

"Excellent idea," Frakken said, and yelled in Gamilon at the crowd as the soldiers broke off and ran for the trucks, the Earthlings in hot pursuit.

"Wendy! Nova!" Homer shouted behind her, and they turned to see him hanging out the window of what appeared to be a rather large tank.

"Homer, what's with the tank?" Wendy yelled as they ran up.

Homer shrugged and said, "Well, when one has the opportunity to steal a tank, one should take that opportunity, no?"

"I'd compliment you on your tank-stealing skills," Frakken said as he swung himself on top of the tank and began flipping switches to power up the gun emplacement attached to the roof, "but I think we have other priorities. Namely, trying not to be killed before we can use said tank to the best of its abilities."

"Stop emulating Leader Desslok," Damiru said as he climbed up behind him and vanished into the vehicle's belly.

"How do you know that is not my natural speaking voice?" Frakken asked as he powered up the gun and fired it at the ship in the middle of the dock. Its bow promptly exploded and caught fire, which spread to some of the base.

Damiru popped his head back up. "You coming, or what?"

Nova rolled her eyes and pulled herself up into the tank.

Inside, the thing had multiple holographic displays against the walls which almost made it seem as if it was lined with windows rather than reinforced armor plating. She immediately triggered the radar systems, her favored posting aboard warships and ground control. Above them hovered Hardy's lone stealth plane, and several other blips which were apparently fighter backup for the base.

_We won't be here long enough for them to use that on us_, Nova thought as she snapped, "Hardy?"

"Yes, Miss Nova?"

"I want you to fire a couple volleys at that burning patrol boat to confuse them, and then cut and run. Got that!"

"Yes, _ma'am_!"

The fighter launched its bow missiles right into the patrol boat before turning and streaking off towards Moonbase.

She heard a loud clunk as Avatar slammed shut the entrance hatch. Frakken had jumped in at some point during her conversation with Hardy, and was now operating the gun emplacement from the remote station.

"Hang on, guys!" Homer yelled over the intercom, and they were all pushed backwards as the tank shot forwards, hurtling out of the base and into the nearby wilderness.

"What of the others?" Damiru asked nobody in particular.

"I detect that all the Gamilons aboard the ship made it into one of the escape vehicles," IQ reassured him, an almost gentle tone in his electronic voice.

Damiru nodded his thanks at the little robot and said to the room at large, "Then I should probably tell you of our plans."

"We remained behind during the battle at Rajendora, but instead of being destroyed, we were shot down onto the surface. Soon afterwards, Terran soldiers from the nearby base arrived and subdued us. There were five ships that got shot down. One exploded when it crashed, but the rest were mostly undamaged. The people that were brought here are those who survived the crash and those who didn't die in the fighting at the base."

"'Die in the fighting'?" Wendy asked. "You mean, there were others who died?"

Damiru nodded and said, "Yes. I'm the only member of my crew left. My XO, a young woman named Kelsanjira, took the rest of my crew to try to make a last stand. They managed to take out a good portion of the base with them, though."

Frakken then added softly, "She was in a relationship with some high-ranking member of the Gamilon hierarchy. Even so, she got a lot of marriage proposals from the crews of the ships she served on. 'Jira, as we called her, was very beautiful."

A long silence fell. Nova, trying to start a topic of inquiry which didn't lead to sorrowful memories for the Gamilon officers, said slowly, "You accused Frakken of imitating Leader Desslok, the Gamilon ruler. Do you know him?"

Frakken snickered. "Oh, yes. We served under him for ages. I wouldn't be surprised if he was completely immortal. If he wasn't, he could be called absolutely suicidal. But even so, he always seems to know at least a dozen ways out of any situation."

"It's like he takes 'it's impossible' as a challenge," Damiru added with a slight smile.

Nova sagged against the wall. "Good." At their confused looks, she quickly explained to them about the Cosmo-DNA, and the message capsule she had sent to Iscandar. As she finished off this account, Damiru suddenly got to his feet and gave her a hug.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for saving our planets."

"I couldn't just stand by and do nothing," she said softly. Pulling away, she added, "They aren't saved yet. We still have a lot of work to do."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven  
October 7, 2199  
0754 Hours, Earth Time  
In Orbit around Mera, Ninth Planet of the Sanzar System

"So, what's the big deal about this warping thing?" Xandir demanded. "We did it fine coming back from Rajendora. Sure, there's the issue about Gamilon and Iscandar's gravitational fields messing with the warp calculations, but we're out of range by now, surely."

"That's not the point," Mekaer said in an exasperated tone from having to compensate for all the myriad issues the ship seemed to have. _Although, I'd willing accept having something break down every day if it means we can save our people._ "No matter how well engineered the ship can possibly be, it's first warp is always a headache for navigators. That's why the shakedown cruise starts off with a warp when the ship is controlled remotely, so no one is lost if it doesn't come back. Obviously, we don't have time for that-"

"No kidding," Kansir interjected.

"-so we have to take a leap of faith here."

"And no offense to the designers," Rashura said as he turned in his seat to look at Xandir, "but the fact that we have a dual Gamilashium-Iscandarium Wave-Motion Core-"

"You guys actually have a term for that?"

"-is making these calculations triply hard. On top of that, we're dealing with a centuries-old warship here, and no amount of redesigning is going to give this ship enough tensile strength to compensate for the stress of years."

"Furthermore," Talan added, "and no offense to you, Mekaer, but those maneuvers you did were hardly beneficial to the hull integrity."

"I figured that, given the way fifteen separate alarms were flashing at me by the end of that battle."

Starsha gave him an odd look. "Fifteen?"

"He's being sarcastic, Majesty," Rashura informed her.

The Iscandarian ruler looked somewhat annoyed. "I believe I told you, my friend, that you need not stand on ceremony here."

"Yes, Majesty."

"You might as well give up with that particular endeavor, madam," Venikira said as he looked over at her. "He will insist on using your title because of his respect for you." He turned to look at Mekaer. "My crews have repaired the damage to the engine. We're ready to warp on your signal."

"Right," Mekaer said with a nervous nod of thanks towards him. He flicked on the intercom to the Navigation levels and said into it, "Ready with the calculations?"

"The target area is free from obstacles, Commander," an anonymous voice reported back to him.

"Rashura?"

"Warp calculations are being programmed into the computer now."

Another panel lit up, displaying the converging lines of their reality and the Fourth Dimension as the small dot that signified their position rose and fell along the waves of time.

"One minute to warp," he said, gripping the controls tightly. "Final report: declare go/no go for warp. Secondary Navigator and Tactical Radar?"

"Go," Rashura said, pressing the switch on his console that made the corresponding light on Mekaer's console flash green.

"Engineering?"

"Go," Venikira said.

"Mechanical?"

Go," Talan said with a slight smile at the fact that, at this moment, he was under Mekaer's command. Judging by the smirk Desslok was giving him, he likely found the situation equally amusing.

"Cosmo Radar?"

"Go- wait!"

Mekaer froze, exchanging a worried look with Xandir.

"Signals from starboard, aft. . . Earthling patrol fleet! Rashura?"

"They're on my radar, too!" the Iscandarian navigator shouted. "Six main ships and some fighters!"

"Approaching at a speed of just under twenty-five space knots!"

"They're in attack formation!"

"Xandir!" Mekaer shouted instinctively.

"All the power's going towards the warp!" Venikira said sharply.

He spared a quick glance towards the countdown. Thirty seconds. . .

"Starsha," Desslok said, and Mekaer turned to look at him. "Can you provide enough power to the weapons for Xandir to keep them at bay?"

Starsha didn't seem pleased about it, but she nodded.

"I'll help," Rashura said.

"What?"

"I'm Iscandarian too," he reminded them. "I have some of the psychic abilities we all share."

"Okay," Mekaer said. "Do your thing. But hurry!" He flipped on the intercom. "Twenty seconds!"

Rashura and Starsha turned to look at each other before closing their eyes. The air around them began to shimmer, and slowly, the power display at Kansir's station crept up to the minimum firing requirement.

Kansir had been watching it as well, because he turned and shouted to the gunners, "Alright, you got your targets? Ready, aim, and. . ."

"Fire!" Xandir shouted mere moments before blue energy, tinted a slight amber, roared from the gun barrels and slammed into the Earth ships.

"Ten seconds! Brace for warp!"

The Earthlings ignored the traditional protocols for regrouping and simply attacked from wherever they had been before the _Yamato_ fired on them. The entire ship shuddered as the beams tore into the hull, sending pieces of cold metal spraying out into the darkness.

"Nine!"

"Come on, guys!" Xandir yelled. "Get the power back up! You can do it!"

"Eight!"

"We can't!" Rashura shouted, supporting himself on the board. "We don't have the psychic strength after keeping Iscandar alive!"

"Seven!"

"They're regrouping!" Starsha gasped out, the bright flashes on the radar screens moving to make two waves of fighters bearing down on the _Yamato_.

"Six!" Mekaer shouted, buckling himself in with one hand. "Come on, Quezar, do something!"

"No!"

"Five!"

"Why not?" Xandir snapped, leaping to his feet. "Give up the pacifism for a second and _help us_!" The next hit knocked him to the deck.

"Four!"

"Will it mean anything in the end, Gamilon?" Quezar shot back. "No! All it will do is convince you further that violence is the solution to everything!"

"Come on, Xandir, lay off," Venikira said.

"Three!"

Xandir spun around to glare at him. "We're under attack! We have to _do something_!"

"Two!"

"Did anyone," Desslok said in a tone of such supernal calm that everyone turned to look at him, "notice that, no matter what we do, we are moments away from escaping untraceably?"

"One!" Mekaer shouted, smiling slightly from the sheer delight of eluding the Terrans for the second time as the helmsman of this warship. "And _warp_!" he declared triumphantly as he yanked back the lever that transformed their world into dancing light as their ship vanished from this plane of existence.

But before it disappeared entirely, a shot from one of the Earth battleships snaked in and struck it on the side of the hull, knocking the ship sideways as they vanished into warp.

Mekaer and all the rest of the crew didn't know exactly what had happened. All he knew was that, just before the normal stars disappeared, the ship skewed sideways, slamming them against their harnesses as the _Yamato_ hurtled away from their planned course into the depths of the Fourth Dimension.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve  
October 7, 2199  
0932 Hours, Earth Time  
Tokyo Megalopolis, Earth

"Dash, why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

The bespectacled commander on his screen hesitated, a look of nervousness briefly flashing across his face. Wildstar sighed internally. Dash had heard of how his moods had been of late from Sandor, no doubt, and that was problematic. Like anyone else, he didn't like being chastised.

"I'm not mad, you know." Judging by the look of relief, his suspicions were correct.

Dash stood up a little straighter as he said, "Well, the 18th Patrol Fleet-" not like that meant anything to him anyway "-just contacted me and requested permission to engage. I gave it, even though I'm not sure they'll fare any better than those I dispatched previously." He opened his mouth to say something else, but cut off as he heard someone shout, "Sir, they're here!"

"Here? Who's here? Be more specific, lieutenant!" Dash turned to look at him. "Wildstar-"

Wildstar waved his hand dismissively. "I want to hear this, too."

Dash nodded, just as the lieutenant shouted, "Sir, the _Yamato_-"

_Yamato?_

"It-they-just warped right into orbit!"

Dash turned, looking over his shoulder in a manner reminiscent of one looking out a window, even though Wildstar knew he was looking at a screen. He looked back at Wildstar and said, "Sorry, sir, we've got a bit of a problem here!"

Wildstar shrugged. "Go deal with it and give me a report back when you aren't under attack."

Dash nodded, saluted, and before the connection was cut off he heard him yelling, "Get the defenses up! This is the Battle of Neo-Pluto, Mark II!"

* * *

"That last hit must have messed with our course," Mekaer said, ferociously looking through the calculations and course changes. "It's the only option."

"You're right," Rashura said, and he looked over to see a heavily detailed plot of their planned course and their actual course, with another side view above the main diagram, which had a little slope of their actual course that showed where they had been knocked into a deeper level of the Fourth Dimension. "Specifically, at point A-365.0976, we were hit with an energy beam on trajectory T-73.129, which served to move the ship from an intended course trajectory of 6021.5164 to an accidental trajectory of 6023.365. And _that_," he continued, seemingly oblivious to the shocked looks he was getting, "resulting in our warp-out point moving from E-54356.5198, or Jura, 10th planet, to I-251423.25635, or Rajendora, 12th planet."

In the silence following this pronouncement, Talan stood up and walked over behind his chair, nodding in approval at both the calculations and Rashura.

"So why aren't you sitting in my chair?" Mekaer asked no one in particular.

"I could never pull off those crazy moves you do."

"Tilt the ship to starboard."

The pilot side of him reacted instinctively, yanking the controls to the side as an energy beam whipped past them to port.

"How did you-?"

"In keeping with your tradition of not noticing the obvious," Desslok said sardonically, "though, that was very impressive on your part, Rashura, you have apparently forgotten the fairly unimportant fact that there is an Earthling base on Rajendora. The same one which has been launching planet bombs at our planet for the past several years." He paused, waiting for them to pick up on it.

"So you want us to attack the base?" Xandir said. Apparently realizing how that sounded, he continued, "Not that I don't."

"And I'm picking up a distress signal from nearby," Starsha said. "It appears to be an automated one; a few klicks away from the base, from one of the Gamilon battleships. . . _Centur Miel'khai. . ._?"

"That's Damiru's ship!" Mekaer yelled, a light of hope shining in his eyes. "They might have survived!"

Desslok nodded and said, "Talan, prepare two landing parties. The first is to find the battleship _Centur Miel'khai_ and any others that may have survived, and to look for survivors. It will be under Mekaer's command. The second will find and destroy the command center, and disable the planet bombs' launch."

"Is that all?"

"No. The landing force will be under my direct command."

* * *

_Centur Miel'khai_: Light of the Stars


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen  
October 7, 2199  
1013 Hours, Earth Time  
5 Kilometers from Rajendora Base, Planet Rajendora

Mekaer's landing ship settled with a landing that was half-crash, half-skid on the top of a hill. The door ground open, slamming into the rocky, frozen surface. The young Gamilon Navigation Leader leaped from the shuttle, shouting over his shoulder at Harusik to wait for them there. The others hit the ground nearby, their weapons already raised in preparation for battle.

For several agonizing minutes, there was silence as the small party dashed between outcroppings of snow-covered stone, more often than not slipping on the ice hidden beneath a layer of fluff. There was just enough atmosphere on the small planet for there to be wind that blew snowflakes into their faces, limiting their visibility to no more than five feet ahead.

Then several lights snapped on, half-blinding them as they went from straining to see to squinting against the excess of light. Soldiers charged into their ranks, splitting them apart even as those of both sides fell in the crisscrossing light beams.

And then the tanks slammed into their flanks.

One of the huge machines sent a scintillating pulse of blue past him, missing by a matter of inches. Mekaer leaped backwards instinctively, only to slam against one of the cold hills. He saw a tank emerging out of the snowfall that had changed into a blizzard, leveling its forward cannon at him.

* * *

Kai had not at all anticipated Desslok being just that _good_ with a fighter. He knew about his flying prowess, of course (the fact that Desslok was completely perfect at everything was an accepted fact of Gamilon society and saved quite a bit of headache when you tried to figure out just _how_ he knew how to do half the things he could) but it was just different when you were hearing about it and actually seeing it in action.

And he could also see just why Desslok had insisted on them flying in with fighters instead of landing ships. Troop transports were practically asking to be shot down in conditions like this.

'This' being them dogfighting while being shot at by antiaircraft guns from the base below. Kai was incredibly glad that the _Yamato_ was in the skies backing them up, since without that distraction, the Terrans would probably have blown them out of the skies several minutes ago.

An emerald burst struck one of the weaponry towers, causing it to collapse in a shower of rubble, and the coded signal for landing crackled through all their headsets. Kai quickly brought his fighter down in front of a building which appeared to be a hangar, setting down in an almost vertical landing on the faintly-blue ice. He quickly depowered the plane and leaped out, staggering somewhat as the wind buffeted his slender frame.

Desslok had landed not far away, and was quickly glancing around with piercing eyes to locate the best entry, ignoring the blond hair whipping in his face.

(The fact that Desslok does not require a spacesuit, oddly enough, is _not_ widely accepted amongst Gamilon society, with most regarding it as complete nonsense, despite everything else he is accepted to have done, much of which is far more ridiculous. This fact has caused quite a bit of consternation among military leaders, and most other people who he exhibits this particular ability in front of.)

"Where do we go?" he asked over the whipping wind, feeling an urge to speak loudly even though, by all known theories of physics, the Gamilon Leader should not be able to hear him at all.

Desslok glanced over at him with a look of mild annoyance, then grabbed the front of the suit and yanked him down just before Terran fire skipped over their heads and where they had just been standing.

(Desslok is also known for a tendency to warp the laws of physics by his mere presence.)

"Guys, there's three squads' worth of Terran soldiers approaching from the northeast at-" he glanced over his shoulder quickly, gauging the distance "-thirty feet, coming fast!"

"I see them, Kai," Xandir crackled over the headset. "What do we do?"

"Get inside the hangar," Desslok snapped, half-standing as he fired several times at the charging soldiers. Some of them scattered at his fire and Kai saw two go down, one permanently.

"Hangar, go _now_!" He loosed his sidearm from the flight/space-suit for the first time and firing several parting shots as he dashed from the hangar. The sharp crackle of cover fire sounded behind, and he brought the gun around to shoot out the electronic lock on the door. He slammed his shoulder against semi-frozen steel, breaking it open with a groan.

He overbalanced as he shoved the door open and fell on concrete. Kai leaped to his feet instantly, to see a modern airlock set not five paces away.

"Nice cover," he muttered under his breath before turning and running back to the entrance. About half the people in the landing party had made it over successfully, all of whom were now covering the remainder as they dashed across.

"Squad Three, you stay here and cover our way out," he hissed into the comm. "I don't especially want to get stuck here after destroying the missiles, do you?"

The ground shook from a thrown grenade exploding near the edge of their huddle as those not assigned to cover duty turned and dashed through the door and airlock, the latter delaying them for several seconds as the pressure equalized before they climbed out. Kai instantly shoved his visor up and unclipped the mask over his face, taking in a deep breath.

What he saw next almost made him choke on it.

The half-dissected bulk of a Gamilon command cruiser sat in the center of the hangar, Earthling schematics and analysis programs glowing on screens all around it. Even torn apart, Kai recognized it instantly.

_Kilsimiri'kha Kelsanjira._

And the ship that sat beside it was almost as terrifying.

"A Terran prison ship."

Suddenly, Kai remembered the turrets that had collapsed after a direct hit from the _Yamato_'s main guns. They had seemed off somehow, and now he knew why. The building had been very short and squat, and amazingly well-defended, despite not seeming like a primary gunnery platform.

But it was perfect for a prison for enemy soldiers.

That terrible thought had only just crossed his mind when Desslok spun away, almost _running_ to the nearest computer console. Kai heard gunshots start behind him, and called out a half-conscious order to take cover and return fire, because his eyes were on the strings of information flashing across the screen. He didn't know much Terran, but he knew enough to know that Desslok was looking for a specific person.

The Gamilon Leader's eyes suddenly widened in shock and he did a strange half-shake of his head before turning to one of the doors at the far side of the hangar.

"Desslok, wait!" Kai shouted instinctively, running after him. Desslok halted and half-turned, looking at him with strangely cracked eyes.

"I need to check something," he said cryptically. "Five minutes."

He was gone before Kai could protest, demand to know exactly what had happened. He turned slowly, looking over at the monitor as if to ask it what was going on.

Only to discover that it had the answers.

A single file gleamed on the screen. There was no name attached to it, but there was a picture of a young woman with long black hair and fierce, dark blue eyes. And beneath it, a word he had long since become acquainted with.

_Deceased._

* * *

A beam of light fired, but not from the tank.

Emerald light lit up the entire area as a battleship-grade shock cannon went off from somewhere above his head, slamming into the dark metal and completely obliterating it. For a moment, there was a single silence, and then the Terrans counterattacked.

The battleship he had mistaken for a hill fired twice more, knocking out several of the tanks with each blast, which also served to briefly clear the area of the windblown snow, allowing him to see the profile of the ship fully.

At some point, his landing party had gotten the upper hand over the Earthlings, for there was no sound except for the faintest whistling of the wind. He knew the soldiers would be staring at him worriedly, but right now he didn't care. He would know this ship anywhere.

And right now it was so encrusted with snow and ice there was no chance of there being anyone still alive in there.

"We have to check," Mekaer said softly, perhaps to himself, perhaps to the others. He moved forward, heading for the emergency hatch in the side he knew was there, and unceremoniously shooting the ice off the door in order to get in.

The inside was worse.

There was none of the growth-like encrusting as there was on the outside, only a thin skin of frost clinging to every single surface. Without the wind, it was utterly silent.

A starship transformed into a tomb.

He made his way to the bridge unerringly, even though he knew what he would find.

The bridge was just as could and silent as the rest of the ship, most of its systems hibernating behind a layer of ice. Only one still remained, the automated emergency message that had lead them there in the first place. One of the Communications people moved over, looking at the readout to see if there was anything of note. Several from Combat looked around to find the reason the ship had protected them.

"It mistook you for its captain, Mekaer," one of them said softly as he stood at a small screen with only the message 'Captain's Protection Activated.' "It doesn't know Damiru is dead."

Mekaer hung his head and nodded slowly. Silence descended again, no one knowing what to say to him. Death had become more commonplace, but that didn't mean they knew how to deal with it any better.

As he stood there, staring at the ground, he picked out several spots of brownish-red on the ground. Blood.

But if everyone had died in the crash, there should be more. There should be bodies. . .

Mekaer looked around quickly, picking out tiny streaks in the metal where the heated beams of lasers had struck the walls. There was no need to fight a crash, not with conventional weapons.

They were not dead.

They had been captured.

They were_ alive._

* * *

Talan gripped the sides of the commander's chair at its raised pedestal, gaze roving over the bridge crew. Rashura had taken Mekaer's place at the helm, and was doing an admirable job of keeping the ship from being hit.

Much.

A beam of blue-white fire slammed into their aft keel, sending the ship twisting slightly on its side. Several retaliatory salvos knocked two destroyers from the stars, sending them plummeting towards the planet below.

"Damage report!" Talan snapped. "Did that hit damage the engine?"

"Power reduced by 15%, but we can still fight," Venikira said, eyes on the glowing orange readouts from the engine crews below.

"Good!" Kansir said. "Sir, I have a clear firing angle on the main Terran formation!"

"Fire!"

The main guns fired once again, sending several scintillating beams into the heart of the Terran fleet. Rashura spun the ship into a dive to avoid a cluster of shots coming towards them, and it was then that the power cut out.

The emergency lighting kicked in instantly, bathing them all in harsh red.

"Venikira, what just happened?" Talan demanded.

"That hit must have been more damaging than I thought," the Engineering Chief muttered, worry creasing his features.

"Sir, we're caught in Rajendora's gravity field!"

Talan looked over at Rashura, who was looking at him with barely concealed fright. _Well, of course he's afraid. He knows how many ships crash-landed on that planet and never returned._

"Venikira, get the engine back up! I don't care what you do, just find a way!" Talan turned to look at the crew, who were all looking at him now. He was their leader at this point, and it was in his hands to get them out of this mess. "We're going to survive this. I swear it."

* * *

_Kilsimiri'kha Kelsanjira: Kelsanjira's Revenge  
_


End file.
